A Gerudo Christmas Carol
by Mr. Crash
Summary: The Gerduo version of the classic Christmas story. My return from a long hiatus. Hope this hasn't been done before. Enjoy!


A Gerudo Christmas Carol  
By Mr. Crash  
  
***  
  
To all readers: Please note, I have not been visiting ff.n for the past couple of days, so I am unsure as to wether or not this has been done yet. Thanks.  
  
Enjoy.  
  
***  
  
Lenoard was dead, to start with. That was for sure. It could not be argued. He was as dead as a doornail. Now, it is not sure as to wether or not a doornail is dead per se, but if a doornail _could_ be deceased, then Leonard was dead. As a doornail.  
  
His partner, Ganondorf, owner and recent co-owner of Skynard and Dragmire (sellers of the finest armor and weaponry in all of the valley), despite being a cold man, kept the name Skynard and Dragmire, and even on his own office, where he handled all the finacials of Skynard and Dragmire, had the name, in huge, arching letters, printed right on the front of the store, for all to see. Skynard and Dragmire.  
  
Ganondorf Dragmire was not a very popular man. He was a true mizer, and expected total and complete respect. He ignored the poor, had contempt for the rich, and felt nothing for his workers. He almost never gave raises, and even then, it was not out of pride that an employee had done something excellent; rather, it was done so that potential employees would not disregard the company. For who would join a company that never gave you raises, even when that person performed spectacularly? Would you?  
  
Dragmire was also a small, weedy man, being of only five foot eight inches tall. He was not overly strong, and had a large, hooked nose. If you could summarize him in one word, it would be this: Thin. He had a miniscule head, reed-like arms, and spindily fingers. Dragmire was reaching the end of his years, and it showed; with greying hair, and a hunched back, he was a picture-perfect example of an aged Gerudo.  
  
Skynard and Dragmire was a small, valley-based company (valley-based meaning that they did not sell outside of their native Gerudo Valley). However, while only having 103 people employed, Skynard and Dragmire was still highly successful, and had all but a monopoly on weapons production.  
  
It was the eve of Christmas (for those not fimiliar with the Christmas relegion, it is the most common in Hyrule, having a following primarily in the valley and by Hyrulians). Outside, snow covered the normally cobblestone drives, and ice coated rooftops while frost shadowed windows. But despite the frigid conditions, it was the favorite time of year for everyone, Gerudo or otherwise. Well, nearly everyone's favorite time of year.  
  
Dragmire _hated_ the holidays! Employees asking for time off, lateness being extremely common, and many going home early to buy presents for their family...! If they wanted to waste their money on trinkets and such, they could do it on their own bloody time!  
  
However, despite his burning desire to fire the next pitiful person who came to him, asking to skip work, Dragmire restrained himself, determined to maintain a good image with the public. He also need to keep some workers handy; it would be bad for buisness if he laid-off half his people.  
  
Anyhow, it was Christmas Eve, and it was late. Dragmire was hunched over a sprawl of papers, organizing finances, calculating his bank balance, determining which projects to except, etc., when he heard a knock on his door.  
  
"Eh?" he said, looking up. "Who is it?"  
  
"Um, m-me, sir." Dragmire vaugely recognized the voice, but was unable to place it.  
  
"Come in." When the door opened Dragmire saw that it was young Link, his personal assistant. He had recently hired the lad to help him with small, unimportant projects, and to help him move and transport things; he was a sort of errand-boy.  
  
"Well, what is, it? Come on now, be quick about it!" Dragmire said in his scratchy voice (the deep voice from his youth had long since faded). He was in no mood to chat; there was work to be done, people to be paid, weapons to be sold!  
  
"Um, sir, well, I was wondering, well, er..."  
  
"Well, come on boy! Out with it!" Dragmire was in no mood to waste time!  
  
"Well, sir, I was wondering...well, since it's Christmas Eve, and well, it's late...I was wondering, could I leave early tonight? To be with my family?"  
  
A great swelling over the old Ganondorf Dragmire. He could not fire his whole work force, but he could at least fire this one boy!  
  
"Now listen, you!" he boomed. "I have tried to be reasonable. Despite countless wishes to get rid of the next fool who asked to skip work, I have not fired a single person! But this! This is the last straw!" He drew a deep breath. "You're _fired_!"  
  
Dragmire was filled with satisfaction. The boy's face fell. "Y-yu-yes sir. I'll...I'll go leave." The boy disappeared back into his side room, and left with his coat and hat.  
  
"Aaaah...now for some peace and quiet..." And he turned right back to his work.  
  
***  
  
Even later! Dragmire's candle had melted down to a stub, but he took no notice. But then, it burned right down, and the last of the wax melted. With a little puff, all the light in the room went out.  
  
"Eh?" said he. "That late, is it? I should be heading home..." He went over to the hat stand, unhooked his cloak, lifted his hat onto his head, threw the cloak about his shoulders, and left the one-story office into the cold, dark streets. And of course, he remembered to lock up.  
  
It was about ten o'clock when he reached his home. He took off his cloak and hat, picked up a book, sat down in his most cofortable chair, and began to read.  
  
He had been reading for about fifteen minutes when he heard a whistling noise. At first he paid it no attention, but when it became louder, he looked around. Upon seeing nothing, he went back to his book.  
  
When the whistling had gone on for ten minutes, Dragmire couldn't stand it anymore. He jumped up from his seat, and shouted through the rooms, "All right! Show yourself!"  
  
Instantly!, a great burst of wind and light shot through the halls. The windows were knocked open, and Dragmire's book was knocked from his hands. He stumbled back, squinting against the light. But the wind and light stopped, just as quickly as it had started.  
  
Dragmire stood still for a moment, not sure of what to do. Had what he _thought_ just happened, _really_ happened? He gulped, and called out, shakily, "Who...who's there? Show yourself...!"  
  
With no immeadiate response, Dragmire bent down, and picked up his book. He sat back down to read.  
  
Not three seconds had passed when he heard a voice. "Ganondorf..." it seemed to say.  
  
Dragmire's eyes widened. His body stiffened. Could it be...? But no, he was dead! Dead as a doornail!  
  
"Ganondorf...where are you?....."  
  
Dragmire stood up from his chair very slowly, and looked towards his front door.  
  
"Ganondorf Dragmire..." At those two words, a dull blue hand floated through the door!  
  
"Aaah!" screamed the aging Gerudo, and with that, he promptly stumbled backwards onto his backside.  
  
An arm was attached to the hand, and a body attached to the arm! A pale blue ghost floated through the door.  
  
"Ganondorf...look at me!"  
  
Dragmire stood up slowly, shaking. It was him! Leonard Skynard! His old partner! But how? Leonard was dead! Completely!  
  
"Leonard...? Is...Is that you?" Dragmire asked shakily.  
  
The ghost wailed. "Ganondorf...It is I, Leonard Skynard!" The blue ghost paused, and seemed to shake. "Ganondorf, I have come to warn you! I am a messanger of God...I have come to warn of impending doom for you! You must find out now, on Christmas Eve, when you're last chance of redemption is at hand!"  
  
Dragmire was puzzled. "What? My impending doom? My redemption...? What? God! It is true! There is a true God!" He was enthralled! Not only was he speaking with a ghost, but he had just given proof that God existed!  
  
The ghost groaned. "Ganondorf...that is your flaw! You doubt your faith, and you are unaware as to why you would be punished...!"  
  
Ganondorf, look at me!" asked the ghost.  
  
Dragmire looked over his dead friend. He looked the same, except for ragged clothes and the fact that he was blue. But one thing stood out...The chains. Leonard's hands and feet were shackled by huge manacles.  
  
"I see that you have noticed my chains..." The ghost let out a sigh that almost sounded like a moan. "Ganondorf, I was ruled by greed and contempt my entire life! I am now condemned to spend all of eternity in chains! But you...! You must not let that happen to yourself!"  
  
Ganondorf, tonight, you will be visited by three more ghosts," said he. "The first will arrive at the stroke of midnight. They will show you what you need to see! Please, listen to them, they are your key to repemption!"  
  
The blue ghost shook, as if afraid. "Ganondorf Dragmire, I bid you good luck! Find your salvation in the night..." The phantom of Leonard floated backwards.  
  
"Wait!" cried Dragmire. "Leonard, wait!" But it was too late. The ghost had disappeared.  
  
It was thirty minutes past ten o'clock. 


End file.
